


The Way You Do the Things You Do

by nneefa



Category: Xiaolin Showdown (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-15 14:47:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18671839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nneefa/pseuds/nneefa
Summary: There was something unsettling about the bruise on Raimundo's face, considering it was meant for her.





	The Way You Do the Things You Do

**Author's Note:**

> This is set immediately after the events of Time After Time II. Quick note: 
> 
> 1) It amazed me how quickly the monks seemed to bounce back from their showdown against Hannibal and co., particularly Raimundo, who'd gotten beat half the death. It only makes sense to me that they'd rest their bodies, especially since they had to fend off the Horde of Evil right after winning their showdown. There's no way they wouldn't get injured during that fight.
> 
> 2) I'm of sound mind that Kimiko would feel mixed emotions over Raimundo taking her place in the showdown, and she'd confront him about it. And, also, since I ship them, I also think this was a turning point in their friendship, in that she starts to become more conscious of him as more than a friend. I tried really hard to portray that without making them OOC.
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this. And constructive criticism is most appreciated.

It was funny how things could still manage to be so lively around the temple, considering what had just transpired not even 24 hours ago.

Living and fighting through two, insanely alternate timelines was certainly one thing, but to turn around and battle against the ‘Unwelcomed Mob of Evil’ - as Dojo had so eloquently phrased it - a second time not even ten minutes after coming out of them was just too much, even for Wudai Warriors. Master Fung, thankfully, had the right mind to give them the rest of the day off. He even dismissed them from their chores, of course, putting it off for the following day. According to him, they’d earned it on account of everything they’d been through. It also helped that they’d sustained  _more_  injuries on top of what they already had, but none of them dared complain.

Instead, they fell right back into the swing of things. That was, everyone except for Kimiko.

From her position at the infirmary sink, Kimiko watched Omi flit about Raimundo’s cot with the energy of a four-year-old with a sugar rush. Despite his injuries - a knot the size of a ping pong ball on his head, a split bottom lip, and several scrapes and bruises peppered along his knuckles and arms - Omi still found a way to be energetic.

It almost got on her nerves how easily he seemed to bounce back from all of the madness, especially when she couldn’t find it in herself to do the same, but Kimiko decided not to let it bother her too much. She’d almost forgotten what it looked like to see Omi act like an obnoxious little brother to Raimundo, considering his year-long stint spent antagonizing the older boy and all. Thankfully, Raimundo never took the bait, even when Omi seemed overbearingly harsh, and if he’d felt some type of way about it, he hardly let it show. Knowing him, he probably endured it without a second thought towards the consequences. For the sake of reestablishing trust with his friend. For Omi’s sake.

 _That_  was something Kimiko could honestly say got on her nerves: not Raimundo and Omi’s endless back-and-forth banter or the time it took to repair their brotherly relationship, but Raimundo’s ability to dive in head first, regardless of the consequences. To be unconditionally  _kind_  to and for others, with no concern for himself, was something Kimiko could not, for the life of her, understand.

Like their tag team showdown against the Forces of Evil.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t happy with their victory or anything. She’d been just as ecstatic as the rest of the team when Omi rescued Dojo, even finding a way to jump for joy despite the sharp pain in her back. But, now that the high was over and in seeing Raimundo’s condition - the bruise under his eye, his fractured hand, the torn flesh on his arm and back, the seared skin on his chest - Kimiko was finding it increasingly difficult to be grateful about anything. A part of her was moved,  _touched_ even, that he’d jumped in on her behalf; however, another part of her was angry with him,  _furious_. Especially when it should’ve been  _her_.

“Oh, pleeease, Raimundo, won’t you tell me what it feels like to be Shoku Warrior?” Omi droned for what ought to be the billionth time in the last hour, snapping Kimiko from her train of thought. “I want to be  _mooost_  prepared for when I make my transition from Wudai Warrior!”

Raimundo watched him bounce up and down in front of his bed with mild amusement. “How should I know when it hasn’t even been a day yet?”

But it was as if what he said went in one ear and out the other as Omi continued his rant, holding on to the edge of Raimundo’s bed while he bounced on his toes. "Does power surge from your very body? Can you manipulate the wind, at ease, without the use of your Elemental Shen Gong Wu? Can you break the sound barrier? Can you-

“Omi, slow down!” Raimundo cut him off with a shout.

“Yeah, partner.  _Breathe_ ,” Clay added, rubbing antiseptic into the grooves of his knuckles. He’d scratched his hand trying to fend off Katnappe, Cyclops and the Chameleon Bot, the first of whom he went out of his way not to harm.

Omi did as he was told and took a deep breath. Only to continue rambling again. Raimundo quickly clamped his good hand over Omi’s mouth and answered him with a grin before he could start. “Honestly, minus the robes, it still feels like I’m a Wudai Warrior, but I’m sure I’ll get used to it. No, yes, and maybe…, I don’t know yet. Now, are you done?”

Omi nodded his head vigorously and pulled Raimundo’s hand from his mouth. “Ooooh,” he chirped excitedly, clamping his hands over his cheeks, careful to avoid the bump on his head. “I cannot wait for my chance to become a Shoku Warrior! I’ll be all this and a box of cookies.”

“Uh, that’s ‘all that and a bag of chips,’ Omi,” Kimiko finally said, maneuvering away from the sink and towards Raimundo’s bed where the shorter boy stood to hand him an ice cap. “And no offense, but I think you should focus a little less on being a Shoku Warrior and more on your injuries.”

“Yeah,” Raimundo agreed with a snicker. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you were sprouting a second head.”

“Well, at least I am not bound to my mattress,” Omi jeered with a flush of his cheeks, hiding his knot beneath his ice pack.

“That’s ‘bedbound,’  _knucklehead_ ,” Raimundo guffawed, unable to contain himself anymore, causing Omi to go from pink to red.

Before Clay could stop himself, he burst into laughter too. “Now, Rai,” he managed to say between gasps of air, “that was a low blow. Even for you.”

Kimiko tried and failed to hide her own laughter with a strain of her cheeks, knowing that Omi didn’t enjoy being the butt of anyone’s jokes, especially when it came to his head. “Yeah, Raimundo,” she said, coughing in a feeble attempt to mask her giggles. “That wasn’t very nice.”

“Sorry, Omi,” Raimundo immediately apologized, still laughing, though not quite as hard. “I couldn’t resist. I was holding that one in for a minute. No hard feelings, right?”

“None at all, my friend,” Omi huffed, sourly pulling his ice cap away from his head to reveal his bump. The action only made Raimundo erupt into laughter again. Omi looked to Clay with a sharp turn of his head, frowning as he pointedly ignored their newly elected leader. “Come, Clay. I believe it is time for supper.”

“Hoowee! Ain’t that the truth!” the cowboy yipped, slipping off his medical bed to stretch and rub his belly. “I dunno ‘bout y’all, but all this time travelin’ business then done worked up a fella’s appetite. I could eat a horse, I’m so hungry.”

“Yeah, dude that’s gross, but hey, while you’re at it, grab me a plate too,” Raimundo piped in with a wide smile, his amusement finally dying down. “After a long day of kicking evil’s butt, I could use a bite to eat.”

Omi paused just before exiting the infirmary, his hand posted on the threshold of the door, and turned to grace Raimundo with a smirk, a mischievous gleam in his little, brown eyes. “Perhaps, my second head and I will think it over. While we eat.”

Raimundo’s mouth fell open in astonishment. Clay’s hand flew to his mouth as if he’d just heard someone utter a swear word, mirth clear in his blue eye, and he looked, back and forth, between Raimundo’s crestfallen expression and Omi, who’d disappeared down the hall with a smile.

“But, but I’m your leader!” the Shoku Warrior whined.

“In name only!” Omi yelled down the hall playfully.

Raimundo blew out a puff of air, leaning back on his cot with a mock frown. “Ay, you think you know a guy.”

“Sorry, Rai,” Clay chuckled, his apology not even the least bit sincere, though all in good humor. “You got no one to blame but yourself for that one. You comin’, Kimiko?”

Kimiko, who’d been staring at Raimundo’s bandages since the boys’ little exchange, looked up to see Clay watching her. Although his smile appeared relax, even she could see the concern laced in his eye. She bit the inside of her cheek before a sigh could escape her lips, a tinge annoyed at having been caught moping, and graced him with a smile of her own. She wouldn’t put it past Raimundo if he’d noticed her mood either.

“Nah, you go on ahead,” Kimiko told him with a nonchalant wave of her hand. “I’ll join you and Omi in a sec. Just need to tidy up a bit.”

Clay looked from Kimiko to Raimundo for a split second, the barest hint of a smile on his face, before tilting his hat down at them. Kimiko didn’t bother trying to interpret what that meant, as she was sure it’d only make her angry. “Okie dokie. I’ll leave you kind folks to it, then,” he said cryptically and, without another word, left the infirmary.

Raimundo barely allowed a second to pass before he spoke up, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “Alright, girl, out with it.”

Kimiko bristled at his demand, her frown immediate as she turned from where Clay had stood to face Raimundo, who looked nothing short of confused, if not concerned. The urge to ball her fists was fierce, but she held herself back, not wanting to risk reopening the wound on her palm. “Excuse me?”

Raimundo rolled his eyes, wincing as he sat upright in his bed. “Come on, Kimiko,” he urged, his face softening. “You look worse than Jack after he loses a showdown. You don’t think I noticed the way you’ve been looking at me?”

Heat rose to her cheeks before she could stop herself. Angrily, she asked, “And just what’s  _that_  supposed to mean?”

“Don’t play dumb, girl. You know exactly what I mean,” Raimundo responded exasperately, despite his own blush. “You’ve been looking at me like I died or something. What’s the deal?”

“It’s just that…, well,” Kimiko stumbled, fighting to find the right words to say. She had no intention of beating around the bush with this conversation, but she was finding it very difficult to verbalize her feelings: anger, guilt, worry, gratitude. She’d never felt so many mixed emotions at one time before. In the end, she deflated, gesturing weakly at his condition with a twist of her hand, and softly said, “Look at yourself, Rai.”

He relaxed a little, and gave himself a once over before looking back at Kimiko, his smile as easygoing as ever. “It’s just injuries,” he replied with a shrug, rubbing his wrapped hand. “No big deal. S’not like I haven’t had worse, y’know. Is that why you’re upset?”

Kimiko flared up again, exhaling deeply when she slammed her hands on the guardrail of his bed, startling him. She was pretty sure she just reopened her wound, as her hand throbbed like crazy, but she couldn’t bring herself to care at that moment. “Don’t tell me it’s not a ‘big deal!’ How can you smile like that when you’re stuck in a hospital bed?”

“Whoa, Kim, easy,” he said good-naturedly, holding up his hands in a placating manner. “I just smile. You should try it sometime.”

“This isn’t funny, Raimundo,” Kimiko snapped, glaring at him. His easygoing nonchalance was really starting to grate her nerves. “I’m being serious.”

“I never said it was,” he countered with a glare of his own, though his wasn’t quite as fierce as hers. “So what if I got a few bumps and bruises? At least we won. You’re acting like that’s a bad thing.”

“It is a bad thing when you almost die doing it!” she blurted, wincing when she finally pulled her hand away from his bed rail. It was bleeding. As if on autopilot, Raimundo reached towards her, green eyes filled with concern, and Kimiko jerked back, clutching her hand to her chest like a lifeline. “Don’t, Rai! I didn’t ask for your help!”

Raimundo blinked at her, wide-eyed, hand frozen in midair. He watched her carefully with a furrowed brow, eventually letting his hand drop in his lap, but he didn’t say anything. Kimiko took it as a sign to continue.

“I could’ve taken them myself. I could’ve taken all four of them, if I wanted,” she repeated matter-of-factly. Her eyes burned, but whether it was from anger or tears, she didn’t know; however, she decided she didn’t care. All she knew was that if she didn’t get the words out now, she never would. “But then you had to go and play hero, and now look at you. You got hurt because of me. Did you do it because you took pity on me? Or was it because I’m a girl?”

“Where do you even  _get_  this stuff from?” Raimundo sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Earth to Kimiko. Did it ever occur to you that I didn’t want to see you get hurt? Hannibal and his goons crowded you. I wasn’t gonna sit there and watch it happen, not without doing something about it. So, I jumped in.”

Kimiko opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off, the look in his eye firm, but gentle. Her heart beat just a little bit faster than normal, but she decided to ignore it.

“And I would’ve done the same thing, no matter who it was, whether it was you, Clay, or Omi. You guys are my friends.” He paused to flash her a toothy grin. “And I don’t regret it either. That’s just the kinda person I am, Kim.”

Raimundo’s smile was so infectious that Kimiko found herself returning it. She took a deep breath, the guilt she’d been feeling since earlier easing away like a dying flame. “You do know there’s a difference between being kind and reckless, right, Raimundo? One of these days, you’re going to get yourself killed over it.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t say things like that,” Raimundo protested in a lighthearted tone. “Master Fung said the same thing. Sooo, what? We cool?”

Kimiko wanted so much to punch his arm, to elbow him or something, but knew it wouldn’t be appropriate, considering he was injured. So, she did the next best thing.

She hesitated at first, but she sat on the edge of his bed and reached out to him, ignoring the strange, fluttering sensation in her stomach, and wrapped her arms around him, careful to avoid his injured back. She felt Raimundo go ramrod straight beneath her, but he relaxed almost instantly, returning her hug with a squeeze of his own.

“Yeah, we’re cool,” she answered, but then she pulled back to fix him with a stern look, her hands resting on his shoulders. “But don’t you ever do anything like that again.” She jammed a finger against his collar bone with every word to emphasize her point.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Raimundo said with a grin.

Kimiko knew that it was hot air. He’d do it, without hesitance, every single time. That was just the kinda person he was, no matter how much he tried to hide it. It was his finest quality, after all.

She nodded her head, quickly sliding off his bed before things could get anymore awkward. There was something about the look in his eye that made her feel weird. “Good. ’Cause next time, I’ll kick your butt myself if you do.”

Raimundo made a noise at that. “Whatever. Just go take care of your hand already.”

“Don’t push it, Rai,” Kimiko threatened him as she made her way to the medical supply cabinet for the first aid kit. “Oh, and Raimundo?”

“Yeah, Kim?” he asked.

She faced him fully, med kit clenched tight in her hand. She seemed to look everywhere but at him before she took a deep breath, cheeks dusted a light pink. “Thank you,” she said sincerely. “Y’know, for jumping in and all.” She grit her teeth, embarrassed. “It might not mean that much to you, but what you did, well, it really means a lot. So, thanks.”

With that, she hurriedly left the infirmary for the dining hall. Had she stayed just a little bit longer, she’d have seen Raimundo bury his face in his knees, face gone red.


End file.
